Two Strangers and A Situation

Posted on Wed Jun 3rd, 2020 @ 3:34pm by Alden Loxley & Tristan

Mission: The Milk Run
Location: Fortune's Echo Cargo Bay
Timeline: Day 3 - Newhall to Hera (Late Evening)

The air was still and quiet in the cargo bay as Tristan continued to scrub the hydraulic arms of the doors. From the looks of the steel casings, they hadn't been cleaned in ages, so it was taking more elbow grease than he wanted to give to make them shine. But he did as he was told and scrubbed away, slowly making headway into the caked on oil that had hardened over the years.

What he was glad about was that he changed his clothes before starting the deep clean this bay needed. From a nice tee-shirt and jeans to a pair of running short and a tank top. At least with this outfit, Tristan wouldn't mind if they got dirty or ruined, even if it was his favorite tank top. Holding his blonde hair back with a bandana tied around his forehead, he almost looked like a different person than usual.

Most of the crew was by now asleep, or at least tucked up in their bunks doing something out of the way. Alden stood at the high point of the metal steps overlooking the cargo bay and let his mind drift in a very specific direction. The New Kid.

Seemed that Tristan, their new deckhand, had been putting in some effort in the right places - Noah and James reported only good work and no trouble as yet. But there was definitely something else going on. Alden hadn't missed it, he'd just been biding his time to be certain of it. Now seemed as good a time as any for the friendly confrontation. He shrugged his shoulders in his dark blue shirt, rested a hand on the ever present Model B with its worn strap holding it to his dark grey cargo trousers and Alden exhaled softly.

Then, with an obvious clang from his scruffy leather boots on the metal stairs so the boy knew he was coming down, the Echo's captain descended to the cargo bay.

"Hey kid, how ya doin'?" He asked, and the words had a genuine concern wrapped about them.

Tristan looked up to the voice, "Good evening, Captain," he said. "There something I can do for you?"

"Yup," Alden shook his head and grimaced. "You can answer my question."

"Um...ok?" Tristan said as he stopped scrubbing and tossed the sponge down into the bucket. "What question?"

Alden turned on his heel, strolled back to the steps and stared up them for a silent second of calm. Then he swept around and repeated his short little journey to where the boy was working.

"Hey kid, how ya doin'?" He repeated, holding out his right arm in a stiff gesture that ended in a straight palm, a clear cue for Tristan to engage with a response. Alden waited, a little more impatiently this time, for his response.

"Oh." Tristan was a bit embarrassed but tried to swallow it. "I'm doing alright, how about you, sir?"

"I'm just peachy," said Alden, abruptly. He studiously ignored the slight blush to the boy's face and soldiered on regardless. "But I mean - really - how are ya? Cos I've been keeping an eye out and you seem kinda... skittish... Someone got you scared or is that just your nature, being all jumpy an' all?" Truth was there was a particular person that seemed to trigger the avoidance behavour, but Alden was fishing for information, not providing it to be denied.

Tristan just shrugged, "I'm not really sure," he said. "Everyone has been nice and friendly." Tristan looked down and grabbed the sponge, continuing to scrub the hydraulic arm.

"Uh-huh," Alden said as he watched the boy work. He kept his tone level as he continued, testing out a theory. "So when you've finished up with this, I have a job for you in the port shuttle. That okay?"

"What sort of job?" Tristan asked, not looking up but not wanting to give anything away. The truth was, he felt incredibly guilty after his rendezvous with Jacob the day before and had been avoiding the Companion since then. But he certainly didn't want Alden knowing that.

"It doesn't matter what sort of job," said Alden, a little annoyance creeping into his tone again. "You snuck onto my ship, without my permission." He leant against one of the containers of saline and sighed, pretty certain he knew why the kid was avoiding eye contact. "You wanna tell me what you're running from? What you stole?" Alden asked. "Or who attacked you back on Newhall?" He was guessing now. "Or why you've been ducking outta the way every time a certain person walks anywhere close to you?"

Tristan flinched as Alden raised his voice, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

He took a leather satchel that had been hung over his shoulder and handed it to the younger man. "Here, have some food while you think up some Go Shi (crap) story. Or, y'know," he kept his distance, but softened his voice some as he added. "Just tell me the gorram truth."

"I'm sorry," Tristan said, dropping the sponge and bag of food as he began to cry. "I can't tell you the truth," he said between sniffs. "I didn't steal anything, though," he said, hoping that would be enough.

Alden had seen crocodile tears in his time, and he'd cried plenty of real ones. His heart wasn't yet hard enough to assume the former when it might be the latter, so he crouched down within arm's reach of Tristan and reached out with words rather than physical gesture.

"Don't be sorry," Alden said, his words offered with a gentle strength. He picked up the abandoned sponge and placed it in the bucket, then rested a supportive hand on the kid's shoulder. "Tell me just enough truth that I can understand how to help you."

Tristan nodded, swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat. He looked up into Alden's face, seeing a kindness and compassion where he didn't expect it. He sat there for a moment, before he finally spoke up. "My father was harsh, to the point of cruelty. And he had a very specific plan for how he wanted my life to go." The young man sighed, playing with the a flap from the leather sack with his finger. "I'm honestly not sure what I want to do with my life, but I know it wasn't what he wanted. So I ran away and ended up here."

"You're way too young to worry about what you want to do with your whole life," Alden noted, with a lopsided smile. "And now you're away from the bad influence try not to focus all your energy on the past. Maybe just think about what you want to do with today, and concern yourself with one day at a time."

Tristan smiled weakly at that. A grumble from his stomach interrupted the tender moment as he realized he hadn't eaten since the pastry the crew's doctor had given him yesterday morning.

Alden sat down, crosslegged on the floor alongside the boy and pointed at the bag. "Eat something," he ordered peacably. "Problems are always harder to handle on an empty stomach." Inside the satchel, there was fresh fruit, some dried, salted meat, a large chunk of bread and a triangle of hard cheese.

Finally fishing his hand into the bag, Tristan pulled out the large piece of bread and pulled off some of the crush. He looked at it and offered it to Alden. "I would hate to eat alone," he said.

As Alden took the piece of bread, Tristan pulled off his own and shoved it into his mouth, chewing slowly to enjoy it while it lasted. After a swallow of bread, followed by two bites of cheese and a slice of meat, Tristan folded the bag closed, hoping to save the rest for later.

"So I'm going to guess you figured out what happened with Jacob?" Tristan asked, looking up at the man as he pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. He recalled the Captain's earlier comment and wanted to address it now rather than let it simmer for later. "Are you mad at me? I didn't mean to cause a problem."

Kid hoarded food like he'd been starving before, or at the very least, he was wise to the limitations on a longer journey. Alden let that slide, and made no move to recover the leather satchel from him. He listened to the boy speak, studied his calmer expression and tried to read between the lines.

"Guess?" Alden asked. "Suspected, more like," he admitted. "Don't know what exactly happened, but something's certainly making you all kinds of uncomfortable and with you being currently a part of my crew, I make that my business." He canted his head to the side as they sat there on the decking together, and kept his words kind and his voice low. "Do I have something to be mad about?"

Tristan blushed as he looked down, "We sort-of..." The young man shrugged, "...had sex. Yesterday morning in my bunk." He looked up, eyes searching Alden's face, hoping to glean his response to the information. "I'm sorry Captain."

He hadn't expected... That. No, not even a little bit. So the S word sunk into Alden's brain with a certain amount of confusing shock wrapped about it, and then it bounced about drawing attention to itself as he struggled to truly comprehend this information.

"Sort of?" Alden said. "Yesterday?" He was distantly aware that he should be using more words, but his mind couldn't quite comprehend this simple combination of details.

That literal first night on board. The stowaway and the companion. The teenager and the Registered Companion. Which... wasn't illegal or unpleasant in any real way. It was somewhat unexpected, yes. But there was something important he needed to establish and Alden's brain finally released control back to the man. Consent.

"You had sex. With Jacob," he said, deep lines furrowing his brow as Alden studied the boy's face for a useful emotion with which to work. "On purpose?"

"Are you mad at me?" Tristan asked.

"At you?" Alden's frown only deepened. He wasn't. But the kid wasn't answering his questions. "Not yet." He waited for his answer.

"I just feel ashamed and embarrassed," Tristan said, taking a deep breath. It felt good to talk to someone about these things, especially ones that didn't react like his father. "It helps that you're not yelling at me, though."

His jaw tensed and there was visible vein at his temple as Alden processed those words. Ashamed and embarrassed. "Sorry to hear that," he said, keeping his voice level with a surpreme effort as he stood up and paced a little, trying to keep his hands relaxed as the emotions roamed freely. Jacob... what did you do...

"Nope," Alden said then. He was still trying to process this whole matter. Was the kid playing him? Would Jacob really...? "No yelling at you. But you're serious, right? Did he... hurt you?"

Tristan thought about it for a moment, then gave a slight shrug, "I mean, yea. Isn't it supposed to, though? That's what he told me."

As he turned back to look at the boy sat there on the metal floor, Alden had no idea how messed up his own expression truly was. Somewhere between horrified and uncertain, caught between disbelief and concern for trickery, but mostly, overriding it all, was the definitive need to protect and defend. That was what drove him to punch a hand into the wall, screw up his face in pain and then cast a dark frown at Tristan.

"Seriously?" He demanded, now about one sentence away from confrontation with a certain Companion.

Tristan looked up at the man, confused, but suddenly scared. His breathing intensified as he slowly scooted back, away from where Alden stood. "P-please don't hurt me," he said as he tried not to cry. Honestly he was tired of crying on this ship. "I really didn't m-mean to."

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Di Di (little brother)," Alden said, keeping his distance as he mentally kicked himself as he saw the fear in the boy's eyes. "I'm never gonna hurt you." He looked from Tristan to the stairs up to the port shuttle access though, and glowered for a moment. When he turned back, Alden's face was calmer, and he offered out a hand to help the younger man up from the floor.

"C'mon," he said, anger locked down for the moment. "It's alright. I'm not mad at you, dohn ma (understand)?"

Tristan was hesitant at first but took the man's hand and nodded as he was pulled to his feet.

"Enough work for today," Alden told him as he made sure the boy could stand solidly before he released his supportive hold. "Do you need to talk about it?" He asked, genuinely, though what he, himself really needed, was to yell at Jacob. Once Tristan was safely in his bunk, that was exactly what the Echo's Captain would do.

"No, I'm ok," Tristan said as he bent over and scooped up the leather bag. He held it out to Alden, but dropped his hand to his side when the Captain wouldn't take it. "Just make sure Jacob is ok," he said. "I've been trying to keep my distance. I don't want him to feel bad or uncomfortable with what happened."

With that, Tristan turned towards his cabin and walked away.

Alden raised an eyebrow, just one, waited until Tristan's door closed behind him, then took the stairs two at a time. Fist clenched tightly at his side, he headed straight for the port shuttle. Oh yes, he needed to make sure that Jacob was okay...